


Longing (Sequel to Confessions)

by bastiansbabe



Category: Football RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF
Genre: Angst, Crismes, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 14:34:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2471738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bastiansbabe/pseuds/bastiansbabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James and Cristiano see each other again for the first time in two weeks. Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2421002">Confessions</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Longing (Sequel to Confessions)

Two weeks. That’s how long it had been since James had seen or heard from Cristiano. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the lack of communication, especially since the older man had made such a shocking confession the last time they were together.

James thought about texting him. It would have been the perfect opportunity, too. He was on his own, no one to answer to about who he was messaging. He cursed himself for not having the courage, but at the same time, he was angry. He was starting to wonder if the whole thing had been a colossal joke.

Knowing he was going to come face to face with the other man the next morning made him both excited and nervous. As he lay in bed alone that night and closed his eyes, the kiss they shared kept flashing through his mind. The mere thought of Cristiano’s lips against his made it hard for him to breathe. His boxers became increasingly tighter. He tried his best to ignore the sensation, but eventually gave in to his wanton desire. He rubbed himself through the material of his boxers for a few minutes before slipping his hand inside. He closed his eyes, imagining the older man’s hand wrapped around his length, helping him find his release that he was desperately seeking.

Cristiano’s name spilled from his lips over and over as if it were a prayer. Every inch of his body shook as he reached what could only be described as a bittersweet moment. He opened his eyes only to realize that he was alone. Sticky, sweaty, and spent, he rolled over and fell into a deep slumber. His dreams were filled with thoughts of the Portuguese man; some real, others products of his subconscious and an overactive imagination.

His alarm abruptly ended one of his most vivid dreams to date. Cristiano touching him, kissing him, making love to him in a way no one else ever dared. He laid there for few minutes, collecting his thoughts before making his way to the shower. Once again, he found himself thinking about the other man, causing him to become aroused. He braced himself with one hand on the shower wall as the other made its way between his legs. All it took was the mental image of Cristiano wet with a towel hanging low on his waist to send James over the edge. Part of him hated the hold the older man had over him while the other part found it exciting. He quickly washed up and got dressed before grabbing breakfast and heading to training.

Although he was early, he knew he wasn’t the first to arrive. The older man always arrived before everyone, even before Ancelotti at times. He took his job very seriously, which was one of the things that drew James to him. After a quick stop in the dressing room, he made his way to the grounds. He started stretching when he felt someone walk up to him. He closed his eyes for a brief moment before standing up and turning to face the other person.

“Hola, bebe,” Cristiano whispered with a smile.

“Hola,” James responded and couldn’t help but return the smile.

“Congratulations on your goal.”

“Thank you. You, too, on yours. It was amazing.” He stopped himself.

“Thank you,” Cristiano chuckled. “Luck.”

“No. Mine was, yours was talent.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” The awkward silence both men were trying to avoid took over.

“I…um…y…yo…you…” That stutter that James loathed always seem to rear its ugly head anytime he spoke to or about the man standing in front of him.

“Shhh, it’s okay.”

“It’s not really. It’s frustrating.”

“I make you nervous?”

James just laughed.

“What? I’m serious.”

“Very.”

“Why? Because of the other night?”

“No. Not just because of that. Because you’re Cristiano fucking Ronaldo.”

“And you’re James fucking Rodriguez. That sweet boy from Colombia that everyone fell in love with during the World Cup.”

“Even you?” the younger man dared to ask.

“No.”

“Oh.”

“I fell in love with you once you came here and I saw what an incredible human being you are.”

James looked down, then back up at Cristiano. “You didn’t call.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It…this…us….it’s a lot to sort out. I’ve spent years successfully denying the fact that I prefer men and then you came along.”

“And ruined it.”

“What? No. You didn’t ruin anything. Complicated things, maybe, but you definitely didn’t ruin anything.”

“So what now?”

“I see someone’s been lying to you and telling you I have all the answers,” the taller man smiled softly. “Sadly, I don’t.”

“So…”

“So, are you still on your own at home?”

James nodded.

“Then maybe I can come have dinner with you?”

“Si, claro.”

“Good. Dinner’s always a good starting point in regards to relationships,” Cristiano smiled and nodded before walking away.

Once again, James was dumbfounded. “Relationships?”


End file.
